


distance equals rate multiplied by time

by DevilishKurumi



Series: finite simple group [1]
Category: Regular Show
Genre: Humanized, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"sometimes you perceive the distance between you and another as being farther than it actually is."</p><p>I mean, two slacker dudes get high and talk about how they look like animals before making out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	distance equals rate multiplied by time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kettugasm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kettugasm/gifts).



> you're never going to get me to 1) write anthro bird/raccoon makeouts, or 2) believe that these two aren't huge gay smoking slackers.

            "Dude.  Anyone ever tell you that you look like a bird?"

            "Only every time we try to relax."

            Sometimes, Rigby says the stupidest stuff.  With the two of them lying on Mordecai's bed, Rigby hanging upside-down, so far over that his dumb little raccoon clip dangles a little over the edge, Mordecai can't help but think the guy is losing more brain cells by the hour.  Not that it'd be a noticeable difference.

            "Like, your legs are so _long_ , dude!"

            Mordecai pulls the joint from Rigby's mouth before it burns his nose, leaning back against the wall and crossing an arm behind his head.  He takes a moment to inhale, pursing his lips and blowing small breaths of smoke out, and stares at Rigby's knees.  "And your nose is all... _beaky_."

            "Yeah, well, you look like a raccoon.  A _stupid_ raccoon."

            "Hey, forget you!  I look like a really _cool_ raccoon, if I look like anything."

            Mordecai laughs without any reason to, lighting and inhaling all over again.  Rigby still thinks that drinking Four Loko on the steps of the house is cool - he's pretty much the textbook definition of stupid.  But he's not about to push the issue; he gives his friend a lot of flak, but he knows when to back off.  Most of the time.

            "Let's go play video games," Rigby says, slithering off the bed.  He sits on his knees, putting his arms on the mattress and staring, red-eyed, up at Mordecai.  "I'm bored."

            "Man, I don't think I could even move if I wanted to."  He lifts a leg experimentally, but the thick rubber soles of his shoe just drag it back down again.  "My legs are like... rubber, or something."  Rigby reaches a hand out and Mordecai passes the blunt back to him, tossing the lighter at his face.  "I'm _super_ comfortable."

            "Yeah, but _I'm bored_."

            Mordecai groans, but it's mostly for show.  Rigby's got a short attention span even when he's sober, so he's never surprised by these outbursts.

            "Can't you just relax, raccoon boy?  Like, five minutes of quiet.  Then we can go do something else."  He thinks about it, then rolls his eyes and says, "Who am I kidding, you can't shut up for _thirty seconds,_ never mind _five minutes_."

            Rigby sighs, struggling onto the bed, flopping against Mordecai's shoulder.  "Wow, birdman, shut up, I can be quiet for five minutes."

            "Betcha ten bucks."

            "I don't _have_ ten bucks."  There's a pause, then Rigby wiggles a little and says, " _Fine_!"

            Like it's even remotely possible for the other to be quiet.  He can already feel the other tensing up like he wants to say something.  Mordecai stares at the vaguely waving wall across the room for a minute, before finding his eyes shut.

            Rigby wiggles again.

            Mordecai feels his kneecaps with incredibly clarity, while his breaths noticeably lift and lower his chest.  Rigby's arm drops along his, fingers snaking between Mordecai's because the wall always seems to freak the other guy out.

            Three minutes in, and Rigby says, "Wanna make out?"

            Mordecai groans and glares and says, "That wasn't even close to five minutes."  Then he kisses Rigby's cheek, misjudging his angle, and Rigby snorts and grumbles and corrects him.

            The next two minutes pass in silence, Rigby's mouth sloppily attacking Mordecai's and going almost still in alternating patterns.  Mordecai presses a hand to Rigby's chest and feels the way his breathing shifts his chest, up and down.

            "You're doing it wrong," Mordecai says.  Rigby socks him in the shoulder, but any power it might've held is absorbed by his sweatshirt.  Seriously, Rigby shouldn't even bother trying to hit him.

            There's a moment when Rigby pulls away, and then he climbs on top of Mordecai's legs, lying against him like a short, ADHD blanket.  Mordecai runs his hands under Rigby's shirt, trails fingertips along his spine.  Rigby makes a noise of approval, and so he keeps rubbing along his spine, up between his shoulder blades.  He can taste the spicy back kick of hot sauce on Rigby's lips, which is a really unsexy kind of thing, but it sends a tingle through Mordecai's face, so he figures it's okay.

            Rigby rocks ineffectually against him a few times, adjusts for errors and does it again with more success.  Mordecai thinks about the wall and how it keeps waving in and out of focus.  His hand slips up through the neck of Rigby's shirt and starts undoing the other's dumb bandanna.  He's feeling that mild tingle run through his abdomen, and Rigby's low noises do nothing but encourage him.

            With the bandanna out of the way, Mordecai moves to suck on Rigby's neck, leaving a little bit of a swollen spot as he works.  Rigby's hand is under his own waistband, and Mordecai can feel it moving between them as Rigby tries to get himself up to speed.  It's kind of adorable, in an incredibly lame way, but he doesn't say anything.  That's the last thing he needs to do right now.

            Finally, Rigby pulls his hand out of his own sweats and gets to work undoing Mordecai's fly, his nose buried in Mordecai's hair.  He wonders if Rigby is staring at the dark roots coming in and judging him so hard for dying his hair blue in the first place.  Then, he wonders at how warm Rigby's hand is as it wraps around Mordecai, pulling him out of his briefs.  He knows he's panting against Rigby's neck, but the other isn't complaining, so he just keeps his eyes closed and listens to the way Rigby's pulse catches as he pushes the elastic band of his sweats down, pulling himself out.

            "Gimme a hand," Rigby mumbles, out of breath, and Mordecai kisses the curve below his jaw as he wraps a hand around Rigby, stroking slow, then fast, then slow again.  He keeps thinking about the wall, and Rigby's warm hand, and the breath just past his ear.  Rigby groans, failing to match Mordecai's erratic pace, and he comes way sooner.  It doesn't phase either of them; Mordecai just drops his hand to Rigby's thigh, while Rigby pushes Mordecai's head back against the wall by the hair and kisses him again.

            Strangely, it's the hot sauce tingle that gets to him, sending jolts down his spine.  When Rigby's teeth pull at his lower lip, he moans and opens his eyes as he comes, looking up at the ceiling.  It's not waving nearly as much as the wall.  His perception of distance is screwed up.

            Rigby rests his head against Mordecai's shoulder - yeah, his perception is really off, because this feels just like being best bros with someone, when he knows that nobody else would probably see it that way - and pants.

            "Forget video games," Rigby says after a moment.  Mordecai _huh_ 's against Rigby's hair and closes his eyes.

            "Whatever, dude."

            They finally get their five minutes of silence, which are broken by, "Dude, do you know you sound like a bird when you moan?"

            Mordecai punches Rigby's shoulder and tells him to pass out.


End file.
